Stressed-girl summer

Summer is supposed to be relaxing + carefree. So why do I find it so stressful?

It’s June; and June means a lot of things. Pride month. Juneteenth. The end of the school year. And whatever the hell Flag Day is.

This month is especially meaningful to me. It’s my birthday month, as well as the anniversary of Abby’s embryo transfer, a failed IVF round before that, and my mom’s death. So it’s a mashup of deep gratitude, joy, connection, and grief.

Mostly though, June marks the starting line of summer.

It’s the precise moment when the Summer Clock begins to tick and a wave of creeping, nebulous pressure to  ~mAkE tHe MoSt~ out of this fleeting season begins.

I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with summer. 

It definitely has its pros:

• The sun stays out longer

• Flowy sundresses

• Patio hangs and picnics

• Iced coffee and cocktails

• Farmers markets

• The smell of sunscreen

• Ice cream and popsicles

• Open-toed shoes

• Nostalgia over summer camp, catching lightning bugs, ice cream trucks…childhood

• THE BEST vibey, summer movies: Camp Nowhere, Now & Then, Wet Hot American Summer, The Parent Trap, and Dirty Dancing

But summer also has its cons:

• Ticks, mosquitos, bees, bug bites

• Bugs in general

• Sand everywhere

• Sunburns

• My underlying terror all summer of my children drowning

• Jackasses setting off fireworks during all hours of the night

• Feeling sweaty all the time, even in the shower somehow??

• Getting scalded by the leather steering wheel, seatbelt buckle and car seats…

• Fights over turning the A/C up or down…and places without A/C at all

• Chub rub, courtesy of all the aforementioned flowy sundresses (although MegaBabe has made this problem SIGNIFICANTLY better)

• Accidentally wearing the wrong footwear while on a walk and getting gnarly-ass blisters

But it’s this societal pressure to MAXIMIZE this season and really soak in summer (e.g. ride on a boat, visit a cabin, play at the beach, tie a silk scarf around your neck) that feels the heaviest. Like no matter how much of summer we enjoy or how many activities we pack into 3 short months, it never feels like we really enjoyed it *enough.* I have this irrational, ever-present FOMO and suspicion that Everyone Else is having more fun than I am.

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I spent the summer of 2004 living in New York City. I had a fabulous internship at my friend’s father’s ad agency and an unreal living situation in Union Square. That whole season of my life felt like a dream sequence - $5 falafel pita sandwiches for lunch, hopping on the subway to wander around the MOMA, endlessly fondling books in The Strand. But I was also tortured by the infinite amount of street festivals, fairs, parades, events, restaurants, things to try and people to meet. On any given Summer Saturday there were endless events to choose from, and picking one meant missing out on all the others.

This feeling/fear/grief is a recurrent theme in my life, and one I noticed at the age of 18 after reading the Bell Jar for the first time:

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

Anywayyyy, long story short, I need to internalize this woman’s POV (and a good counterpoint to Sylvia):

One way I tryyyyyyy to combat my deep desire to look over at everyone else’s metaphorical paper, is by creating a summer bucket list.

Over the last few years, this activity has evolved into a FAMILY Summer Bucket List. We all sit down together and share the things we want to do over the summer.

We don’t obsess over it or try to get a 100% completion rate; it’s intended to work as both a brainstorming tool and a way to stay focused on what matters to us. That way we can prioritize what we want to do instead of chasing all the invitations, events and possibilities. The key is finding a balance between plans and intentionality, with enough empty, unplanned time to be spontaneous and find adventure or rest…whichever we need at any given moment.

Plus, everyone gets to add a couple things THEY are excited about so it’s not just me dragging everyone to random-ass art fairs. (Can you tell who added which items? Hint that I am not the one who added “Go on a Hike” or “Listen to Baby Shark”).

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I also decided this year to make my own Elyse Summer Bucket List in an attempt to stay focused on the few things I really want to put my creative, emotional and physical energy towards. It’s not meant to make me feel *more* pressure, but meant to help alleviate it. To help me focus on the things that matter to me and not get distracted by other people’s cabin plans.

Anyway, here’s what I’ll be planning to do this summer:

• Start writing my novel before I lose my nerve

• Wear appropriate footwear; get minimal blisters

• Keep the bird feeders full

• Enjoy my peonies

• Go to a movie in the park

• Ride my bike

• FINALLY see Alanis Morisette in concert! WOOP!

• Get some skin tags removed that have been bothering me for YEAR

• Set Abby up for success in first grade

• Drink as much iced coffee as I want

• Paddleboard date with Brad like old times <3

This feels “enough.”

What are you going to focus on this summer?